KP: The Chain of Love
by AmericanGecko
Summary: Songfic.  Kim gets a little help from a stranger.  Based on a song that always warms my heart to hear.


A/N

- Heard the song "Chain of Love" as sung by Clay Walker on the radio the other day, and it got the wheels to turning. Those wheels spawned my very first "Songfic" (fanfiction involving or featuring a song), giving rise to this heartwarming little tale. If you know the song, you know the ending, and if you don't, here's a little something to renew the faith in humanity.

And here is the necessary stuff:

Kim Possible and all related characters are (c) Disney, Bob Schooley, and Mark McCorkle.

"Chain of Love" by Clay Walker (c) ...umm...I guess since Sony Music got all the copies pulled off YouTube, they own it...maybe?

Original Characters are my creations, and I would appreciate if you ask before you use them. Thank you.

* * *

><p>Kim sighed as she continued the lonely drive back to Colorado. As she glanced at the rearview mirror, she couldn't help but smile a little. True, the hair was no longer the red it had been in her youth, and the streaks of white and gray now ruled the roost. Her face was also now well-lined with age, but she wouldn't have traded her life for anything. And she might wish the kids lived closer to her hometown of Middleton, Colorado, where she and Ron had decided to settle, but they were grown now with lives of their own. In fact, that was the very reason for this trip.<p>

Kenneth Stoppable, one of her twin boys, and his wife had just given her another grandchild, and rather than sit cramped on a plane she'd decided to drive to St. Louis to see the new bundle of joy. The kids worried about their mother driving in her advanced years, especially since Ron, her husband of sixty-one years, had passed a few months earlier, but even if the last name was different she could still do anything. Not to mention she wanted to give her Mercedes a bit of a workout since it had mostly stayed in Middleton the past few years. Plus, she'd grown tired of never being able to go anywhere without being recognized.

However, as the evening snow continued to fall, she was beginning to regret her decision to keep driving. Maybe the kids were right, maybe she was getting too old. As Ron would have said, she had "let her Kimness get the better of her". Not to mention she had no idea what part of Kansas she was in at the moment. And since she had long ago hung up the mission wear, the Mercedes didn't have any of the gadgetry her other vehicles did which could help her pinpoint her location. All of a sudden, there was a loud popping noise, followed by a dull banging. Sighing, she pulled off to the side, turning on her flashers so the other vehicles could see her in the falling snow. Of all the places to get a flat, it had to be here in the middle of nowhere. Worse, with her hands getting arthritis like they were, she'd never be able to change the tire herself. So what to do…

**+++  
>~~ KP ~~<br>+++**

Joe sighed, rubbing at the dark stubble on his face and running a hand though his dark brown hair as he drove home from a long day at work. The Pontiac's motor was clanging away again, but with things the way they were and money tight as it was, there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He was already pulling in as many hours at the auto shop as he could, but even with that his wife was still having to pull double shifts despite her condition so they could make ends even begin to meet. And with this month's mortgage payment already overdue…

Joe was so engrossed in his worry he almost missed the sight of the elderly woman standing next to a Mercedes. He thought she looked familiar, but for the life of him he couldn't think of from where. What he did know was that she looked worried, and he could tell she was having trouble with her vehicle. He could feel the bed at home calling, but for some reason he felt called to help the old woman out. Even through the snow he could see her smiling as he pulled off the road a few feet ahead of her. Pulling his coat tight over his blue-and-gray-striped mechanic's shirt and putting on his best smile, he stepped out into the cold and snow to walk over to her.

"What seems to be the trouble, Ma'am?"

"Flat tire," she said with a smile. "And this cold is making my arthritis act up something fierce."

"Well," Joe replied with another smile, "I'm here to help you, Ma'am. By the way, my name's Joe."

_He was driving home one evening,  
>In his beat up Pontiac<br>When an old lady flagged him down,  
>Her Mercedes had a flat.<br>He could see that she was frightened,  
>Standing out there in the snow<br>'Til he said, "I'm here to help you ma'am,  
>By the way my name's Joe."<em>

The woman smiled. "Thanks."

As he pulled the tire and jack from the trunk of the vehicle, he smiled again. "So tell me, what's a nice old woman like yourself doing out in this weather this late at night?"

She grinned again. "Driving from St. Louis to my home just outside of Denver. Just passing through, really."

"Long drive," he said as he began jacking up the back end to free the offending radial. "Must have been quite a reason."

"Family," she replied. "Went to see my newest granddaughter. Born less than a week ago, as a matter of fact."

"Congratulations," Joe replied with a sincere warmth to his smile as he loosened the bolts. "And I'd say that's reason enough."

"Yeah," she replied with a sort of distant look before refocusing. "You know, I've probably seen at least three dozen people drive by. I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"No problem, Ma'am," he said as he put on the new tire and tightened up the bolts, making sure they were secure.

The moment the task was finished, he lowered the jack and placed it and the busted tire in the trunk, shutting the compartment firmly yet gently.

"So how much do I owe you?" she said with another smile, her emerald eyes twinkling with her gratitude.

"Owe me?"

_She said, "I'm from St. Louis,  
>And I'm only passing through<br>I must have seen a hundred cars go by,  
>This is awful nice of you."<br>When he changed the tire,  
>And closed her trunk<br>And was about to drive away,  
>She said how much do I owe you<br>Here's what he had to say  
><em>

"Of course," the old woman replied with another grin. "I realize you didn't have to stop, but you did, and I'd like to repay your kindness."

Joe smiled. "You know, at one time I thought like you did. When I was in high school I lived in Colorado, medium-sized town called Middleton. Was home to a pair of pretty cool people, Kim and Ron Stoppable. Well, that's what we knew them as—most of the world knew of them through her name, Kim Possible. Anyways, they liked helping people—for free, if you can believe it. And it wasn't just small stuff; they actually were pretty well-known as world heroes. I used to call it a crock of lies till one day they saved me during one of the attacks on the city by some super-villain."

"You were saved by Kim Possible?" the lady said with a mysterious smile.

"Yeah, couldn't believe it myself," he answered with a grin. "Even more incredible, when I tried to pay Kim and Ron for it, they refused. Said if I really wanted to pay them back, I should just use the money I would've given them to help someone else. There I am, alive because of them, and they're telling me to pass it on…kind of like a 'Chain of Love' type of thing. So I'm telling you the same thing: if you really want to pay me back, help out the next person you see who needs it."

"I will," she consented with her mysterious smile growing and her eyes looking a little misty…although Joe figured that could just be from the cold wind stinging them. "And thank you, Joe."

"You take care, Miss," Joe replied with a grin.

_You don't owe me a thing, I've been there too  
>Someone once helped me out,<br>Just the way I'm helping you.  
>If you really want to pay me back,<br>Here's what you do:  
>Don't let the Chain of Love end with you<em>.

**+++  
>~~ KP ~~<br>+++**

As Kim watched Joe get in his Pontiac and drive off, she couldn't help but smile. One of the biggest things she and Ron had pushed was that they hoped what they did would inspire other people to help those in need. And here, probably at least thirty to forty years later, was proof that at least one person had listened. As she climbed in her Mercedes and started the engine, her smile grew.

"If that's what he wants me to do, then that's what I'll do," she said softly before turning to the empty seat next to her. "Ron, I think you would have really liked that young man."

As she continued her drive, Kim's stomach began growling. However, the late hour had her convinced that there was no way she'd find any place open. But as luck would have it, she found a late-night diner less than five miles down the road that was still open. Normally, she wasn't a fan of diners, but her stomach's growling was growing more insistent.

"Okay, okay," she said as she patted her stomach. "Have to admit I'm about as hungry as Rufus used to get. Still, got to make this quick. Snow's really starting to pile on."

As she entered, Kim was immediately taken back by the aromas to the smell of Ron's cooking. The heavenly odors were like that of a sweet ambrosia, and she stood there a moment drinking it in.

"Can I help you?" a waitress said with a sweet smile that Kim was sure came straight from the heart.

"Table for one," Kim replied. "And I'll start with a steaming cup of coffee, please."

"Of course, Ma'am," the younger woman replied. "I'm Carol, and I'll be your waitress tonight."

After she'd been sat, Kim glanced around. The diner was nice and sparse ("Ron would have called it boring," she thought to herself with a small, sad smile), and there were still a few customers despite the late hour, probably mostly the truckers who were stopping for a break. And probably because of that, there was only the one waitress to handle all the business up front. As the young woman shuffled around, Kim couldn't help but notice she looked practically dead on her feet. She also kept rubbing her back, as if she were dealing with a constant pressing pain. The woman turned around, Kim's mouth fell open as she realized why: the waitress looked like she could pop out her child any moment. How the woman was working in that condition, Kim could only guess, having been practically unable to move when she got that far along with her and Ron's kids.

And yet, despite all that, Carol was putting on a smile that Kim could swear would beat out her best, most dazzling flash of pearly whites any day of the week. No matter how the truckers moaned and complained about their nearly-full coffee cups being bone-dry, or how their completely brown steaks weren't done enough, the young woman continued to smile her brightest.

_Well a few miles down the road,  
>The lady saw a small café.<br>She went in to grab a bite to eat,  
>And then be on her way.<br>But she couldn't help but notice,  
>How the waitress smiled so sweet<br>And how she must've been eight months along,  
>And dead on her feet.<em>

Kim ate her meal in contemplative silence, nodding her thanks when the woman continued to keep her coffee nearly full and always hot—once or twice, Carol even brought her a fresh, steaming cup when her previous one had barely turned lukewarm. What could drive a young woman this sweet to work this hard in her advanced condition was something the former world-hero could only guess. However, she found herself wanting to help this waitress who continued to smile and provide one of the best examples of service Kim had ever seen. However, she didn't know how to help her without it coming off as being a pity case.

However when the check came, Kim smiled at the fact that it didn't even break ten dollars, as her answer had been presented to her plain as day. Even better, here was a way to pay back Joe in the exact manner he'd told her to. She pulled a pen out of her purse, and began writing on her napkin. As she did she smiled again, realizing that once more she was going to be able to help someone just like she used to all those years ago. As soon as she was finished, Kim pulled a hundred dollar bill out of her wallet and laid it on the check. She'd have to be fast, but if it worked…

_And though she didn't know her story,  
>And she probably never will,<br>When the waitress went to get her change,  
>From a hundred dollar bill<br>The lady slipped right out the door,  
>And on a napkin left a note.<br>_

**+++  
>~~ KP ~~<br>+++**

Carol sighed, her advanced pregnancy making her aching back feel like it was covered all over with sticking pins and needles while someone constantly pounded on it with a sledge hammer. And of course, tonight's crowd wasn't helping. The truckers were in fine form, and coupled with at least eight families with an excess over three kids she'd had on the afternoon shift, it had been one hell of a day. It seemed she couldn't make anyone happy, but she knew she had to press on. At least there was only about a half-hour before the end of her double shift, and then she could go home and get off her aching feet. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to sleep tonight.

Actually, though, there was one person she was seemingly able to please with no problem. The old woman who had entered by herself about thirty minutes ago had a caring glow about her, and was expressing gratitude with both her warm attitude and her sympathetic smile. The emerald eyes spoke of a kind and gentle soul, who liked to make others feel important. And right now, it was a pick-me-up which Carol was thoroughly enjoying. She was almost sad that the woman's check hadn't been very big, but even more disappointed that she would soon be robbed of the elderly woman's warm and caring smile. Still, she knew it was the nature of being a waitress.

She smiled when the woman handed her a hundred dollar bill, and shuffled back to the register to retrieve the change. All told, it came to about $91.50, and Carol smiled as she counted out the money. However, when she turned back towards the table, the woman was gone! She moved as fast as she could to look for a purse or anything else to show that the woman hadn't left, as surely it was a mistake. Maybe the woman had only meant to pay with a ten, and in her old age had misread the denomination on the bill. However, there was no sign of the woman.

As she began clearing the table as was customary, her eyes fell on a napkin that had been folded awkwardly and looked propped up. Carol sighed and reached for it, intending to pile it on the plate with the rest of the stuff that would be tossed in the garbage. However, she missed, and instead knocked the napkin so that it fell open. Blinking in surprise, Carol saw writing on the napkin. Curious, she picked it up. And before she'd read a full sentence, her eyes were beginning to tear up.

_There were tears in the waitress's eyes,  
>When she read what she wrote.<em>

_You don't owe me a thing,  
>I've been there too.<br>Someone once helped me out,  
>Just the way I'm helping you.<br>If you really want to pay me back,  
>Here's what you do:<br>Don't let the Chain of Love end with you._

A short time later, Carol clocked out. She was grateful that Marty the cook had decided to be nice (like he always was), and told her to go home while he cleaned up the diner. When she pulled into the driveway, she sat there for a moment as she offered up a silent prayer of gratefulness—thanks to the elderly woman's generosity, they would be able to make ends meet. As she walked through the darkened house, she smiled, happy that they would have an actual house to bring their daughter home to when she finally arrived.

Pushing the bedroom door open gently, Carol shook her head a little when she had to step over a pile of blue-and-gray-striped shirts. She quietly got ready for bed, the money still on her mind as she climbed into bed next to her sleeping husband. Again, she offered up a prayer of thankfulness that there were still kind-hearted people in the world.

_That night when she got home from work,  
>The waitress climbed into bed<br>She was thinking about the money,  
>And what the lady's note had said.<em>

Turning towards her husband, she placed a hand lightly on his dark-brown hair, tracing softly down to his dark stubble.

"We're gonna be okay, Joe. I love you."

_As her husband lay there sleeping,  
>She whispered soft and low,<br>"Everything's gonna be alright.  
><em>_I love you, Joe."_

* * *

><p><em>an_

_As I said, this is my first ever Songfic, and it's inspired by the country song "Chain of Love" as sung by Clay Walker. I've tried to find a copy of the official music video for that version on YouTube, as it's the one that started this whole thing spinning. But unfortunately, recent copywright laws have evidently caused all copies I knew about to be removed. So instead, I offer the following link, which according to the profile is the song sung by the original songwriter:  
><em>_ watch?v=fxYl70xaBcc__ - (You'll have to replace the **.** with a period(**.**) to get it to work. Sorry.)_

_Now, I've set it up to where this could be part of my main **PLAUSIBLE POSSIBILITIES** storyline, but as of right now it's not._

_As always, reviews and comments are always welcome. : )_


End file.
